


And Never Look Back

by KieranIsHiding (XOSweetsOX)



Series: Kieran's MPB 2020: Age of Smack [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Meet-Cute, Multi, Pre-Poly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XOSweetsOX/pseuds/KieranIsHiding
Summary: "In fact, he remembers contacting HR about getting 7B filled, and vaguely remembers a memo coming across his desk about placing a pair of seasoned field agents there who had been transferred here to the home district. He barely glanced over it before slapping a signature on it and passing it back off to be put in motion, but he vaguely remembers the profiles attached. A duo of snipers, somewhat messy ops but clean records, each with headcount higher than Phil’s clearance level number, which is saying something.In other words,effective. Phil approves."-----Fill for Marvel Polyship Bingo 2020 - "I can take it."
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Series: Kieran's MPB 2020: Age of Smack [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825132
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32
Collections: Marvel Polyship Bingo 2020





	And Never Look Back

**Author's Note:**

> Just some quick Clint/Bucky/Coulson meet-cute fluff, I hope yall enjoy! <3

“Clint, _Clint_ , grab the-- _shit.”_

“I got it, I _got_ it, it’s okay, I… _fuck.”_

Phil was not prepared for nearly as much noise as he found upon entering the ground floor door of his apartment complex. He paused, tilted his head just slightly (and no, Nick, it is _not_ in fact reminiscent of a dog) to be able to hear the grunts and expletives better. It doesn’t sound like one of his neighbors -- he may not ever see them face to face, scheduling his comings and goings to make sure he stays as unnoticeable as possible, but his background checks on everyone in the building were _thorough_ damnit -- and he remembers that 7B opened up recently.

In fact, he remembers contacting HR about getting 7B filled, and vaguely remembers a memo coming across his desk about placing a pair of seasoned field agents there who had been transferred here to the home district. He barely glanced over it before slapping a signature on it and passing it back off to be put in motion, but he vaguely remembers the profiles attached. A duo of snipers, somewhat messy ops but clean records, each with headcount higher than Phil’s clearance level number, which is saying something.

In other words, _effective_. Phil approves.

This must be them, swearing like sailors in the stairwell, presumably trying to wrestle something up it -- this older building doesn’t have a freight elevator, but Phil likes the classic charm of the area and is more than willing to put up with some of the building’s flaws for the sake of it.

And if these new agents don’t like it, well. Unlike most things these days, _that_ is not Phil’s problem.

He’s about to step into the elevator when he realizes that it might be a good idea to introduce himself as a neighbor, reinforce the charade that they all know they have to play, just on the off chance that anyone comes by. A sharp about-face puts him at the foot of the stairs, and he heaves the tiniest of tired sighs before he pushes off to make the climb up around the first corner to where the seemingly nonstop stream of curses and grunts are floating from.

He rounds the corner, and oh. _Oh._

Phil should have checked over their files better, should have done more than just glanced over their photos with exhaustion-glazed eyes, because…

One is the epitome of tall, dark and deadly, his long hair pulled back into a messy bun with a couple of strands falling down around his face, the subtle lines of a hip holster evident under his henley. And the other, while even at a glance probably the more easygoing of the two with his dirty blond hair and crooked nose, looks equally as deadly, with the soft imprint of what is obviously an archer’s forearm brace under the long sleeve covering his left forearm.

They’re both very much Phil’s type, which means this whole arrangement just got infinitely more complicated.

But Phil is nothing if not professional, so he steels himself, meets the eyes of the darker haired one who has noticed Phil peeking around the corner with what pings very definitively as a sniper’s level of focus, and extends the offer.

“I can take it,” he murmurs, gesturing towards the corner of the sofa they’re carrying that the archer is struggling to get unwedged from the inside corner of the stairwell. “Looks like you could use a hand, let me help you get this wherever you’re taking it.”

“And you are?” The broody one grunts, and, yeah, that’s fair. Phil is only slightly off his game right now, it’s fine.

“One of your new neighbors,” Phil replies as gracefully as he can manage in his flustered state, “Phineaus Smithson. Pleasure to meet you both.”

The blond looks up at him and double takes, reaching up with one hand to brush sweaty bangs out of his eyes. It leaves him holding up his end of the couch with only one hand, bicep bulging, and yup, Phil is totally a goner.

“The pleasure is all ours, Sir,” comes the seemingly-flirty reply, but no. Phil must be hearing things, there’s no way that--

“I’m Clark, that’s Borky,” Phil mentally translates that the blond must be Clint and the brunet must be Barnes, or, _Bucky_ , “and we would love the help -- in fact, we would be more than happy to treat you to a drink or something in our apartment as thanks once we get this behemoth up there, if you’d be interested?”

“Interested…” Phil echoes. He watches the blond meet the brunet’s eyes, and they trade a few glances that Phil would definitely have missed if he weren’t a trained interrogator. Bucky looks back to Phil and nods decisively, his face softening into a grin as his eyes trail slowly down Phil’s slightly-rumpled suit, the soft lines of the fabric belying the steely, capable figure beneath.

“I would be very interested,” Phil replies softly, and they all stand there for another minute grinning at each other like a bunch of loons before any of them remember the couch that’s still wedged into the stairwell.

And by the time they manage to get it _unwedged_ , Phil is looking forward to that drink for the sake of relieving his frustration _almost_ as much as he’s looking forward to it for the sake of the two men who have lured him into their apartment like a pair of effortlessly deadly sirens.

Phil eventually tires of telling himself that this shouldn’t happen, that they shouldn’t be as hot as they are, that he’s not allowed to have this. So one day he just, _stops_.

And then he never looks back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, if you made it this far! Feel free to leave me your feedback in the comments if you'd like to <3


End file.
